Wings
by Daydreaming of
Summary: When blades are sheathed for the final time and the Titan steam clears forever, Armin, Mikasa and Eren think back on their formerly imprisoned lives and look to a future of liberty in a grim and hazy present. They are nothing short of terrified.
1. Flutter

**Author's Note**: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin or any of it's respective characters and am in no ways affiliated with it's creator, Isayama Hajime-sensei, bless him. These stories are written for entertainment purposes only and I am in no way profiting from them in any financial terms whatsoever. This will be a triptych of individual stories set in chronological order, each told in the perspective of each of the Shiganshina trio members.

I wrote the first two chapters ages before Chapter 54 and 55 came out which I guess is more than enough to explain government-involved situations. I'm as lazy as a teenager in the heat of a tropical summer sun, so…

Some Headcanon to assist in reading this (or not – Spoilers Alert!): Erwin dies (sorry, I like him a lot [do you know he's actually based on a Watchmen character!?] but unfortunately, I like lemony plot twists more because as proven by indulging in the Levitra fandom [I REGRET NOTHING], there're no such things as overly-abused feels) on the way to The Basement (which contains several samples of the Titan-Shifting serum Eren's father used on Eren and exact instructions on how to make them, along with the rest of the stolen memories that he didn't inject into his son [see his "Their memories will help you..." speech on Episode 2 and the girl Eren sees in the mirror on Chapter 53 who suspiciously looks like the woman who took Historia's memories on Chapter 54]. Of course, Reiner and Bertolt had already taken and destroyed them before Squad Levi arrived: thanks for the terrific induction speech, Danchou! They had, however, left the formula for the antidote untouched [I'm still coming up with a reason why] and the Recon Corps, specifically Hange, took advantage of this) and Hange (who dies in the Last Battle – yes, I love her to bits but sacrifices must be made for changes to take place and no, I'm not this heartless in real life, trust me) pressures Levi (I'm sparing him so kindly cancel any plans you have that involve killing me in the slowest way possible) to fill the Commander's boots on their return.

Levi takes Armin (whom they would later on unanimously elect as the leader of the former Special Ops Squad, now the Exploration Squad – Levi joins them of course, they're his family [I want there to be a chapter and/or, preferably and, episode where he cries it all out and after that, I wanna freakin' drown him in happiness because this man deserves it more than words could ever say]) with him as his squad's Chief Counselor (because Armin Arlert deserves hundred times the appreciation he is currently receiving) but everyone else stays on the former Squad Levi, now Squad Mikasa (because who else should take charge of a group whose mission is to keep Eren from getting a single scratch on him?). Jean is Vice-Captain, in case Mikasa-heichou (dang, that sounds good!) ever gets too fond of and/or loses her head over Eren in a mission.

Mikasa gets injured in rescuing Levi in the Last Battle against Annie the same way Levi got injured rescuing Mikasa in their First Expedition against Annie (because I believe in destiny), only she injures both legs (he on the other hand loses an arm like Erwin in pushing her away from danger) which explains why she's in crutches (don't worry, she'll get better; Levi gets a left arm made of steel). Also Ymir got hurt real badly in protecting Historia and she was mistakenly shot with the antidote before she had enough time to heal.

* * *

**Flutter**

Armin gulped dryly, trying not to let his fingers inch their way upwards to loosen the collar of his shirt which was starting to stick to his neck in nervous sweat. They were standing at the gate of Shiganshina, the one that Bertolt had broken down with a single kick almost six years ago, changing everybody's lives forever. Behind Armin was a swarm of commoners who had been whispering diabolically to one another as the traitors made their way to the gate and were now watching them a good distance away with taut, nervous anticipation. Across him were the Shifters who had infiltrated the wall five years ago; facing them with equal silence and standing next to him were his comrades, grim and rigid. The stuffy mid-afternoon air dripped with tension. Everything about this, from the heat of the sun to the expressions of the people in front of him to how tense everyone beside him only reflected the mantra that had been going on his head ever since they had agreed to do this: _This is a bad idea._

He swallowed as quietly as he could, trying to moisten his dry, dry throat and to distract himself from the murmurs of the crowd and the suffocating atmosphere, he looked to his right over Levi's head to take a glance at Eren.

His best friend stood stiff and still, his would have been respectful posture betrayed by his clenched fists, which were shaking violently in restraint that Armin was sure wouldn't even be there if the brunet only had his way. His nails dug to the palm of his hands so hard that they were bleeding and, as if Eren suddenly found a way to pluck mental suggestions of the people around him off the air, Armin tried hard not to think if he was doing it so that he could transform in a matter of seconds to crush the people in front of him or if it was just a way to vent out his wrath. Passionate emerald orbs eyed the vicinity with a burning hot, almost tangible hatred that could make anybody run for the hills in seconds. Armin prayed that Eren would hold on to his sanity for just a little longer.

Besides Eren stood Mikasa, and although he couldn't see her past Eren, Armin knew what she looked like: straight as a pin even in crutches and only years of knowing her would have made her clouded obsidian eyes make sense to an observer. Her lips were surely set tight over stiffly clenched teeth and her fists were balled and set, ready to let fly a punch whenever needed. These were the people, after all, who made Eren hurt so much, who took almost everything away from him and whoever it was who discomforted her Eren would always end up as bloody pulp in her hands. Her glare would be mostly fixed on Annie, always returning to her after its periodical rovings and again, Armin tried hard not to read into his theories too much although there was a 90% chance that this was all true.

Next to Mikasa was Sasha who was undoubtedly not angered, but confused as she stared at the people who had been a part of her life as a Trainee, the ones she worked on group activities with, the ones she dined with, the ones she shared the little triumphs, pains and joys of daily life with for three years, who, just six months ago, revealed themselves to be murderers. After the initial negotiations, Armin had explained to Levi and Squad Mikasa two nights ago that it wasn't their fault, that they had been forcibly torn away from their families and weren't allowed to return until they had Eren, that they truly didn't want to hurt anyone, they just wanted to go home. He knew they understood but weren't emotionally ready to, and although he tried his very best, he was as just as lost in the dark as they were.

Connie stood next to Sasha and Armin knew he was the most conflicted: he had anger, he had pain, he had confusion and he couldn't decide which of these were to reign his heart. There was rage for the ones responsible for his family's death, there was hurt for the two years he spent with friends who suddenly revealed themselves to be the cause of humanity's misery and then there was the plain confusion on why he wasn't able to hate them even though he was supposed to. Why did it have to be them and us, he had asked after Armin's explanation. Why did they have to be the ones who were forced to do things against their will and why was everyone forced to choose between who was more important among their loved ones? Nobody had answered him. No one knew how.

To Armin's left stood Historia, staring straight ahead with her thoughts far, far away from the people in front of her. He had a fierce battle against the majority of the populace at court just yesterday to stop Shifter prosecution, suggesting the relocation of the Shifters (save for Eren who defeated the Ape Titan with his bare hands) and that a member of each side would no longer be allowed to coexist in a five mile radius to prevent any scuffles for the next thousand years when, hopefully, all of humanity forgets that there ever had been any Titans. Both sides agreed but when Historia learned of this, she begged him to exclude her and Ymir but there were to be no exceptions and there was nothing he could do. This was when Levi stepped up and said that Ymir was to be allowed to stay with them until her final breath, and because it was Levi, the commander who freed all of humanity, they were forced to agree. Armin was sure she was counting the seconds until she could be with Ymir and then, together, wait for the inevitable end.

On Historia's other side was Jean, silent and rigid and Armin couldn't guess what he could be thinking. He hadn't said a word since the day before yesterday, a characteristic that just wasn't Jean at all. Jean was precise and calculating; the least he could have possibly done during the writing of the treaty was to voice out what was in his head no matter how unlikely the chance that anyone was going to listen to him but he hadn't. He had stood over them like he was standing now, quiet, with a poker face Armin never knew he had but his eyes were downcast as if meeting any of his old friends' gazes would burn him. Was he hurt? Confused? Was it because he was fully aware of the two sides of the whole story along with the fact that he could accept both? Was he afraid of the fact that although unwilling to, he could? Armin didn't know. He wasn't sure he wanted to.

And to Armin's right was Levi, still straight and stiff and formal, still unreadable, still overflowing with self-control. At least Armin hoped that he was. In the six months that he had been a part of his squad, Levi kept proving himself surprising and the younger man had long given up on trying to know all there was to him. But the fact that he was in front of the Shifters, the traitors, the _enemy_– the people who robbed him of his loved ones and his people – that alone was more than enough to make Armin start choking from the tension. His Danchou had self-control, sure, but what if, after years and years of holding it all in and suppressing his emotions, he snapped? Another war would start and then what? He wasn't sure if he was just imagining that the air around him was getting colder and heavier by the second, only magnifying how hot and dry his throat felt.

It had been the king's orders that the soldiers, especially the remaining members of the Recon Corps, were to be present at the send-off to ensure that there were no hard feelings and to settle any old grudges between the two camps. _As if_he_had any grudges_, Armin thought miserably. _As if_he_lost anything important to him, as if_he_had to choose who he could save, as if_he _ever experienced any of our pain or theirs…_It wasn't a common occurrence for him to badmouth authorities even in his head but after everything he had been through, after all the terror, all the Titans, all the corpses he had to deal with, it was difficult not to. _The king wears no clothes._He had raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side the first time he heard his grandfather tell the tale but now that he understood what it meant, he wondered if banning the ancient stories, the ones that were older than the Walls, had anything to do with the royalties.

Besides, what were they expecting? A group hug? A teary farewell with promises of a picnic reunion in a meadow full of flowers and butterflies and sunshine in a few year's time? How naïve could the government possibly get, to think that this would be easy for any of them, the soldiers, the victims, the survivors of a loveless war? Armin thought that he and the others would be lucky if they got out of there alive: the best condition they could be in after the other side's departure would probably be mangled with deep cuts and black eyes, the ground slick and red with blood from both sides.

_Well, look at the bright side,_he thought. _At least Eren hasn't opened his mouth yet._His fingers flexed with tension at the very thought, more than ready to clamp a hand over his best friend's mouth at a moment's notice.

They had been given ten minutes before the gates were to open and shut but five have already passed and still no one had moved a muscle. _Only five more to go_, he thought, five more and then they would be spared from all their misery. Five more and he would never see them again, but was that a good thing? He wanted to talk to them, to assure them that they were forgiven, to get rid of the dark weight on his heart, to know for sure that they would finally get the happiness they undoubtedly deserved.

There was a shout from behind them and before he knew what was going on, a child had pushed her way between their legs and ran to the other side. He moved reflexively, lunging his arms forward to stop her but it was too late. She was running, running beyond the front line of the people in front of them to someone in the middle of the cluster and now she leapt forward, wrapping her arms around the neck of a Shifter boy, probably no more than twelve years old, who cradled her in his arms as she cried. "Nii-san, don't leave me! You can't go, you can't, you just can't!"

Nothing else existed except the girl, her wails painfully piercing the air, and the dark-haired young man, stroking her short blond hair, tears dripping down his face. "Nii-san needs to go now," he muttered, and Armin thought he felt something stab at his chest. " Nii-san needs to go to keep Rosie safe."

"But it's not fair!" she protested, pounding on his shoulders with all her might, her screams getting shriller and louder. "It's not fair! You promised you'll always be there for me, you promised!" He buried his face in her hair and whispered things that only she could hear and in seconds, she quieted down but the spasms of pain that racked her shoulders didn't lessen.

Soon enough, a few drops, a trickle, and then an entire stream of people moved forward, some cautiously, some eagerly, to say their final goodbyes to the people who had been a part of them. Couples embraced each other for the last time. Friends clapped each other on the shoulders struggling to hold back the tears. A child clung to his sobbing mother, making her promise him sweets and toys when she came back. Armin wanted to join them, to say sorry, to thank, to wish them luck in the next stage of their life, but his feet felt like lead and his head was a dizzy whirl. None of the three people he knew among the Shifters made any action to indicate they noticed the sudden change of the crowd surrounding them and time was running out.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice Eren move forward, stopping exactly halfway between his side and theirs. Armin held his breath, his mind racing to think of what it was Eren was going to say and the possible words he could use to counter them but they were inexplicably replaced with a panicked _Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no, don't say anything Eren, shut up, please__just__shut up, oh no, oh no, oh no._The distant rumbling of the voices around them faded into nonexistence until there was nothing but Eren's clear, steady voice. "Bertolt," he said. "The last time we talked, I promised I would kill you in the slowest, most painful way possible."

Everything that went whizzing through Armin's head at a million miles a second came to a standstill as time started to blur and curve around Eren's words. For a moment, he was grateful that none of them had their 3DMG on, but his momentary comfort was squelched when he remembered the way Eren had been clenching his fists. Time stood perfectly still and he was vaguely aware of his taut muscles, tense and fueled with adrenaline like never before.

And then Eren did the unthinkable. "I take it all back," he said, and his hand stretched towards Bertolt.

Armin stood there, the impact of what Eren said knocking the air off his lungs leaving him dizzy but his shock surely was nothing compared to Bertolt's. Beside him, Annie eyes widened, her lips parted in shock and Reiner stared at Eren as if he had never seen him before. And then, slowly, as if in a dream, Bertolt took a step forward, and another, and another, until his hand was firmly clasped in Eren's. They wordlessly nod to each other before letting go.

_What happened?_Armin thought. _Eren... I thought... I thought..._

A flash of gold gleamed at the corner of Armin's eye and he turned his head to find Historia embracing Reiner with Sasha standing next in line. Mikasa was tersely shaking hands with Annie with Eren behind her, patiently waiting for his turn and Connie and Jean were with Bertolt, saying something about the weather and going out for drinks the next time they met. Only he and Levi stood unchanging, taking in everything in front of them.

Bertolt was one of the best among Armin's many tutored students and in exchange for an understood lesson, he would accompany Armin the next time he visited the library and take out all the books he needed that happened to be placed on the high shelves; who cares if he was shy? And Reiner had been his older brother, offering help and training, doing his best not to lighten his burdens but to give him additional strength and support to help him grow on his own. And Annie… she was the one he sat next to in class and spent quiet times in the library with, the one who, although cold, was never cruel, expressing her care in a way only he had understood. They've almost never talked but they had been together and that was more than enough for him.

Before Armin knew it, she was in his arms. His feet had carried him forward and now he felt her stiffen before melting against him, wrapping him up in an equally tight embrace. He had always wanted to do that, he realized. He wanted her to feel safe and sound and now he couldn't think of anything but being happy that from here on out, that was all there was left for his friend. There were tears in her eyes when he pulled away and something on her lips that might have been a smile. "Good luck Annie," he said. She whispered, "Thank you," and he smiled as he wiped her away tears.

He shook hands with Bertolt, telling him to take good care of Annie (and making it a point to look innocent when the latter blushed) and then to Reiner, who clapped him on the shoulder and said, "I'm proud of you, Armin."

And then, the bells began to ring. There was a short struggle, a final clinging, before everyone was forced to retreat to their respectful sides. Armin saw the three cluster together, seemingly arguing if they should or shouldn't do something. When they turned to face humanity for the final time, Annie had a bouquet of a dozen perfect white roses bunched together in a pearly white ribbon in her arms. She walked, hesitating, towards him, and he thought that the flowers were meant for him before she stopped in front of Levi.

Apparently, his Danchou's mind had been somewhere else because his head snapped up at the sight of her boots to rest, puzzled, on her gift. They were fragrant roses, the kind that actually bloomed and made you feel happy as you looked at them before having to wilt away and die and she was wordlessly giving them to him. It was obviously a peace offering but something nagged Armin at the back of his mind as to why she chose for him to have it, a doubt that he was certain shouldn't even be there in the first place. Was it because he was the captain of all soldiers, or was it because of a more personal reason, such as, perhaps, an apology, a private one? He was an inch away from the conclusion but Levi lifted his eyes to meet her similarly grey ones and he lost it. She flinched, almost invisibly, and her gaze didn't quiver but there was a shift in the way she stood that made her look smaller as if overcome by… what? Guilt? Grief? Regret? A mixture of the three?

Levi stared at her for a few more seconds as the gates began to lift. Soon enough she will have to turn her back on them and leave forever so why wasn't he taking them yet? Armin could see her hesitate, pondering if she should turn around and walk away when Levi lifted both hands and held on to hers for a split-second before taking the roses. He bowed his head to her, and she returned the gesture and somehow, the air around them became a bit lighter, still broken, but not as heavy, not as shattered as before. Somehow they had understood each other, whatever it was that the gestures and unwavering eye contact meant, and Armin felt as if though they mutually made each others lives a little easier.

He watched them as they left, oblivious to everything else in the world but their retreating backs. And then, as if overcome by some unspoken agreement, he and his squad mates tucked their left fists behind their backs and let the right rest against their beating hearts, performing a final salute, a final goodbye to their comrades and friends.


	2. Flap

**Author's Note**: I'm very proud of this one. This was written long before the release of Chapter 54 and 55 which explains the government related thingies. Also, I assumed that everyone knew of life before the Titans and the Walls, so...

* * *

**Flap**

Intense moonlight entered the house before Mikasa did, her shadow like a hollow wound in the midst of the silvery-white wooden boards. Dust clouds rose as she carefully tiptoed in as if afraid of waking an invisible, snoring identity that hid in the shadows. This directly took her back to six years ago, when she would sneak out of bed to dance among the moonlit flowers in boundless ecstasy before having to creep back home and get into bed as silently as she could. Home…

Home had been a cheery little cottage in the mountains that was now a deserted wooden structure that reeked of forgetfulness and abandon. Home had been a vegetable, fruit and pleasure garden that had grown into an indistinguishable tangled mess of weeds that her horse was now dauntlessly chewing on. Home had been the warm light of the fireplace waltzing over the worn yet spotless furniture and floors; now it was the empty darkness of the night, punctuated by the dance of airborne dust in the moon's ghostly glow.

Home had been the new things her mother taught her in the kitchen and the garden, whether it be learning how to make a new dish or knowing which strawberries were the sweetest by their smell before falling into the quiet thrill of a bedtime story and a goodnight kiss at the end of the day. Home had been constantly missing her father even from his five minutes trips to the forest and running into his arms when he came back, and then, after dinner, helping him come up with names for the stars as they sat on the porch with her head on his lap, the scent of the smoke of his pipe filling her mind with peace. Now, Mikasa thought, her home was the bloodstains by the door, scarlet letters worn away by time but still present, still uncomforting, still there. She tried hard not to look at them too much.

The place was smaller than she remembered, perfectly preserved; everything, save for the fallen chair that was her mother's and her scissors, was in its proper place. Time had come to a stop and laid a blanket of age and dust over everything. The pump that served as a faucet at the kitchen sink still dripped its freshwater tears into the metal basin. The fungus-bitten logs in the basket by the hearth sat steadfast in their places, waiting for the day they will be used. And in their room hung her mother's sketches and paintings of their happy faces, oblivious to the neglect and decay outside their frames.

Unconsciously, Mikasa's fingers grasped at the bandage on her right wrist, slipping off the safety pin with ease and unwinding of the white strip of cloth until it came off entirely and curled to sleep on the floor. The scar she shared with her mother stared her in the face. She had looked like her, her father often said, and it wouldn't be long before all the boys in town came knocking at their door, asking if they could be her lover. And when that fateful day came, Mr. Ackerman would open the door only ever so slightly and tell them, No, you may not, only I have the right to hold my ladies' hands; get off my porch before I whup you in the head with this broom, or mop, or plunger or whatever he had in his hands at the moment. And then Mikasa and her mother would laugh and Mikasa would ask questions about beauty and boys and attraction and such. She had always been asking questions. Now, seven years into the future and still facing their pictures, she traced the outline of their sunny smiles, leaving sighs in the six-year old settlement of dust.

The duster was where she had left it, hanging above the broom and the mop. She took a white handkerchief from the pocket of her pants, tied it around her nose and mouth and then rolled up her sleeves. Six months of being a part of Squad Levi had its benefits, she thought, as she opened the kitchen window and repeatedly ran her hand through the clumped feathers, freeing them from their prison of hardened dirt. The benefits were that the time she took to clean things were halved because she knew the best, time-saving, energy-efficient way to do each task. Levi treated cleaning like a science and had, in their free time, lectured them for hours about the proper posture for each chore, the number of buckets of water each section of the house required, how tight their hands should hold a dirty, clean, or brand new rag and other things that would seem mundane to anyone who wasn't a cleaner or a housewife.

For the next two hours, Mikasa dusted the furniture, wiped the china, cleared the chimney, flapped the sheets, beddings, blankets, pillow cases and table cloths, swept and mopped the floor, and even ran back and forth around the house with a wet rag in her hands against the floor like her mother used to do during special occasions. It was one of their family traditions and it had miffed Mikasa to see Annie do it for the first time saying that it was something everybody did in her hometown. _Our bloodline was the first to have done it,_she thought now, scrubbing the floor of the bathroom with a brush and soapy water. _Even before the Walls._She didn't know if this was actually true but she hoped it was. Knowing that somebody else had the knowledge of what was originally her mother's alone was like knowing that one of the foundations of the many things that made her up had crumbled away into nothingness forever.

It had been two days after the departure of the Shifters during which there had been nothing but rain. They had been forced to attend a lengthy, time-wasting trial on what to do with Eren and Levi as they had been responsible both for the death of hundreds of soldiers and the pending liberty of all of mankind. After numerous debates between the religious group, the merchants, the Military Police and most of the citizens against the soldiers of the two remaining factions and the remaining percent of the population which Armin single-handedly (if not slightly exasperatedly) fought for them, the latter part won out and they were all awarded with useless medals and titles by the king.

A war memorial had been hastily constructed in the center of what had once been the town square of Shiganshina, listing the names of all the fallen soldiers who died in all the battles ever fought against the Titans. How all the blacksmiths and the carpenters of all of mankind finished the 15-feet tall (in reference to Eren's Titan form of course) three-dimensional stone and metal statue of the Wings of Freedom in the span three days, Mikasa didn't know, but it was nevertheless impressive and those who volunteered to help build it also received honorifics. Somewhere near four in the afternoon of the day she returned home for the first time in seven years, the rain had stopped falling and it was time to dispose of the corpses of the names engraved on the wings. The families of those who had no bodies to send had reluctantly handed over their fallen member's uniform and those who did not have even that gave a token of their loved ones such as a favorite dress, perhaps, or a notebook. Five bonfires surrounded and illuminated the Wings that night and mankind's last soldiers had stood in front of them in a silent salute until the final eye was wiped, the final sob released and everybody else went home to count their tears to sleep.

When the fires had died down after three hours of burning and the streets were lifeless save for the eight figures who were left staring into the ashes, Levi commanded them to take off their jackets and 3DMG's and give them to him. It would be eight hours before they were to head outside, he said, and they might as well stop being soldiers for the rest of the night. He gave them the freedom to cry and to mourn, to haunt the memorable places in their lives for one last time before they flung themselves into the far-off heart of the world, never to return to the Walls again. There were no more Titans after all and Scouting Legion was no longer needed. Soon enough, the government will see them as a nuisance, an extra mouth to feed and anyway there was, is and always will be, no time like the present.

The sudden decision shocked them, but only for a little while for they had, after all, spent their whole lives trapped in cages, both physical and mental. No one was bothered about indulging in freedom until their very last breath and no one said no. They would survive in the now Titan-free wilderness: Sasha will teach them how to hunt and fish, and Connie will teach them which plants were safe to gather and eat. As for shelter, clothing, and transportation, Levi had been preparing tents, carts, heavy coats and light, breezy clothing, and Historia's grandparents agreed to supply them with ample horses. Along the way, Eren and Armin will map their paths, the trees and the animals that thrive in an area, the sights to see, the wonders to experience, which they will then periodically send to the nearest new settlement who will in turn ensure that the information will be passed on to the Inside. They will set a flag with their emblem on every new place they discover and will walk on, learn, and be together until their feet could no longer carry them, after which they will retire someplace by the sea.

But that was for tomorrow, when they were to meet at the old cottage to pack and prepare before the sun started to rise in the east. Jean had left the earliest to say goodbye to his family. Connie and Sasha had taken for their hometowns as Historia rode North to seal the unfinished business she had with her family. Mikasa had left Eren to Armin for a while and she and Levi rode together to the west before going their separate ways. There would be time for Eren, she thought. She had a lifetime ahead of her of putting on a poker face, of resisting change, fighting oppression and struggling to survive, but that was for tomorrow. Tonight, she was just the angel of her parents who knew how to smile and laugh and talk carelessly, the wide-eyed and curious, homesick child who asked questions. Tonight, she was just herself without the painful past, without the battle scars, without Eren. Just Mikasa Ackerman with her mother's scar on her wrist.

The moon was now directly above her house and the shadows have grown larger, more menacing. She hadn't turned on the light and was proud of herself for not having to rely on it, relieved that her feet haven't forgotten their way around the place where she was born although it was undeniably a lot more cramped than the last time she had been here. The cleaning tools were in their places, happy to be of service again, the scars on the floor by the door were long gone and the place was spotless once more, ready for inhabitance. If she strained her ears enough, Mikasa was sure she could just hear her father snoring softly in his sleep and her mother muttering in her dreams beside him.

The keys were still in the loop on the hook by the door and she took them up but they didn't tingle like when she jangled them together before; they have rusted. She visited the bathroom, used it even, before closing the door behind her and locking it. Then she went to her and her parents' bedroom, patting the stuffed rabbit beside her pillow and creeping beneath her parents' blankets before settling between their pillows the way she used to during stormy nights. It was a lot smaller than the last time she lay there but if she curled up in the tightest little ball she could manage, she could pretend that she was still nine. She remained in the bed a bit, trying to get a whiff of her father's pipe or her mother's sweet-smelling hair but there wasn't any left: the drafts have long blown them away. She smoothed out the covers and fluffed the pillows, kissed her stuffed rabbit good night for one last time before staring at the pictures on the bedside table and the wall, holding on to the emotions each of them radiated towards her as if her life depended on it, memorizing the way her mother's mouth moved when she talked and the grin her father wore whenever he was telling a joke. And then, wordlessly, she stepped outside and locked the door.

She had promised herself to one treasure to keep from the house of her memories, a little thing to look at and keep close to her heart when the nights were long and cold and the days were sad and wet. When she turned the whole place upside down to clean it earlier, she had righted the fallen chair and put the scissors her mother had used to try and defend her in the embroidery box that had belonged to _her_ grandmother's mother. Mikasa sat on her place at the table.

"Hello, Mother. Hello, Dad." The wind outside stopped blowing and the nocturnes came to a full stop. She continued.

"It's me, Mikasa. I've grown a whole lot taller and cut my hair off, but I'm still me. That day you were talking about hasn't come yet, Dad." She chuckled as she said this. She realized she missed the sensation and wondered how long it had been since the last time she did.

"When you left, I met the most wonderful boy named Eren. He is Dr. Yeager's son and he gave me this scarf, see?" She held it up to eye level and brought it forward a bit. "He gave me warmth and a new home after I lost this one. It wasn't as nice although it was bigger but I liked it all the same, because he was with me. Mrs. Yeager was very sweet and she taught me a lot of new things. Dr. Yeager wasn't home often but when he was he'd tell us stories of his work in the inner walls. They were very kind and nice but I was glad they didn't make me forget about you. I also met a new friend, Eren's best friend, Armin Arlert. He wasn't like Eren but he was very smart and nice to me and when he and Eren talked about the outside world, they let me join them too. It was fascinating enough, I guess, and we were very happy with each other." At the back of her mind, a voice chided her for being so childish, talking like toddler to a room in an abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere. She ignored it.

"That went on for a year and then the Colossal Titan appeared. He was taller than the walls and was strong enough to kick down the gate. When he did, a part of the rubble crushed Mrs. Yeager's legs in her house and she was eaten by one of the smaller Titans who came in. I wanted to cry for her, but Eren was so affected and I had to be strong for him, the way he was strong for me when I was weak so I didn't. Wall Maria was also destroyed by the Armored Titan and we were forced to retreat to Wall Rose. After a few years, Eren decided to go into Military Training so that one day he would be able to avenge his mother. Armin wanted the Titans gone too so that no one would have to feel the pain of losing their grandfathers again. I joined because I wanted to protect them both, especially Eren.

"When we graduated, it turned out that Eren could transform into a Titan at will and there were a lot others who could but wanted to catch him because he could control other Titans. These people happened to be the friends we have made during Training and we were all forced to fight one another. And then we learned that the Ape Titan was forcing them to do it so that he could use Eren's power to rule the world, cutting them away from home and not allowing them come back until they had him. So many other things happened in between then and now but the Ape Titan is dead, the Shifters have gone home, and all of our friends are safe and sound."

She paused. There were fireflies outside, drifting lazily and flashing tiny lights as if singing to each other. She watched them for a while then blurted out, "I miss you." She gasped, surprised by her own confession before the tears started coming. The light of the fireflies began to blur.

"I miss you. I wish I could tell you about the praises I received at the Academy. I wish I could tell you about my rival, Annie Leonhart. I wish I could tell you about my first Titan kill. I wish I could tell you about how my friends relied on me to help them. I wish I could tell you about my first real injury, when I got my ribs crushed. I wish I could tell you about how Levi-Heichou appointed me as his second-in-command. I wish I could tell you about Squad Mikasa – don't laugh at me, Dad, it's true. I wish I could tell you about the Final Battle and I wish I could tell you about my being a hero. I wish I could tell you about Connie, Sasha, Jean, Historia, Levi-Danchou, Armin and Eren. I wish I… I miss you."

She sat on her chair, sobbing unabashed. She didn't bother to wipe her eyes or stem the flow of her nose. Everything piled up, one on top of the other: the times Eren scolded her for trying to protect him, the jealousy she felt whenever Eren looked at Annie, the desperation and fear that gripped her heart when one of her comrades got hurt or were about to get hurt, the frustration she felt when she wasn't able to do anything about it, the sight of the dead bodies, the smell of the rotting corpses, the fear of losing Eren, the only family she had left, forever. It wasn't fair, she thought. None of it was and she didn't bother to comfort or scold herself into stopping. She let it all out, sparing no tears or gasps for breath, letting the sadness wash over her, filling the hollow spaces in her heart and possessing her like the dark of the night possessed everything the stars and the moon refused to shine on.

When she finally finished crying, it was still pitch-black outside but the moon was beginning to lower itself to the East. Still not bothering to wipe her eyes or nose, she whispered "I don't need to tell you two." The fireflies out the window hovered breathlessly, hanging on to every word. "I don't need to tell you anything because you have always been there with me. Right?" But she didn't need to answer the question, she already knew the answer. She smiled and closed her eyes. "I love you." And then, as if the night had heard her, a warm gust of wind wrapped its arms around her shoulders, stroking and rumpling her hair and kissing her forehead, lips and cheeks, filling her lungs with something that she could only describe as bliss before blowing out into the night.

Mikasa sat there for a short while, treasuring and memorizing the light sparkling in her chest before realizing that she didn't need to, that the sensation would come and save her whenever she felt lonely or troubled and that it would never ever leave her. "It's alright," she whispered to herself. "It's all alright now." An owl in its roost hooted in reply.

She shut the windows tight and, making sure that the faucet wasn't dripping, pushed back her chair and crossed the living room. She walked out the door and locked it, gave her keys a final un-tinkling jangle and put it under the mat. Then she untied her horse from its post and rode south-east to meet up with the others, her mother's little embroidery box tucked safely in her arm.


End file.
